Alive
by Absolute Despair Girl
Summary: Piko just happened to be a victim of the disease, regret. And seriously, the way he got that disease might compare to a scientist's experiment. When he turns into something he never imagined, can he overcome the troubles he faces? But wait, what did he exactly do to earn this disease? ...Hold on, did the doctor do something to his memory? "...Please let me live longer."


**Hi everyone! It's me, Rainie! Sorry. I know I haven't been active, but I thought before the year ends, why not post another story? Though, to be honest, I'm kind of losing interest in writing. But don't worry! I will try to like writing again! I think it's a good way to express emotion! ^^**

**Do you like the art? It's by XiReiMei! ^^ You should totally check out her works on deviantART! :)**

**Everyone~! This story is dedicated to FiniteXS! *round of applause* He helped me edit the first part of my story. If there are any writing mistakes for the next parts, please tell me and I will fix them! Everyone should check out his stories! \(^o^)/ He is a great friend, too!**

**So, let's begin!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Vocaloid!**

* * *

I rested on a metal chair, nervously waiting for the news. To distract myself, I played with the strands of my hair, but my anxiety was eating me away like insects.

What's my disease?

Is there a cure?

What kind of medicines do I have to take?

How long will I have to stay here?

Who will take care of me?

…Am I going to die?

As more and more questions swarmed through my brain, my ears caught the sound of footsteps. Glancing over to that direction, a brunet in a large overcoat intruded my vision, a clipboard in one of his hands and a ballpoint pen on the other.

"Doctor!" I bolted from my seat in an unfashionable manner, recognizing the man as Dr. Hiyama.

"Hello, Utatane-san." He greeted me, a forced smile on his face. "I have your results, so I recommend you go back to your seat."

Swallowing a lump in my throat, I awkwardly sat back down, following his advice. Getting straight to the point, I nervously asked, "Umm… Have you identified my disease?"

The doctor paled significantly, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead.

Was it a rare disease? A disease they never heard of? An incurable disease?

Well, as long as it's not the disease I think I have…

"A matter of fact, yes… Your disease is regret," The doctor diagnosed, his brown eyes averted to the clean, tile floor.

And of course it has to be that.

"It branches off from depression, but in a more dangerous form." He said, pushing his spectacles upwards. "The disease will slowly corrupt your mind, leaving you brain dead before you know it."

I know. That's how my mother died.

"The symptoms you have been experiencing match up with the disease." He then proceeded to list them, "Low self-esteem, night terrors, cold feet, trouble tasting food, frequent stomachaches, heavy breathing, sudden depression, daily headaches… You have all of those, yes?"

At the mention of headaches, I think I started to gain one. Despite the growing pain, I silently nodded.

"I'm very sorry to say this, but you'll die in a few months, Utatane-san." He formally stated with his so-called grief. "Even though technology has advanced over the past years, humans still haven't found a cure."

"A-are you sure?" I spoke up out of the blue, most likely startling him. "No pills? Vaccines? Nothing?"

"No, I'm sorry to say…" he apologized before he attempted to lighten up the mood, "It's actually a miracle you're alive to this day! Since the disease took root a few months ago, you should have been dead already! That just shows how much you want to live, doesn't it? What a strong will! You should be proud! Even I'm a bit jealous…"

Oh, what a bad attempt it was.

"Is there _truly _no way for me to live? Is there no hope for me? Will I just disappear from this planet? Will I die in a sudden moment just like all of the other victims?" My voice escalated with every question I sputter out as if I have gone mad. _Or maybe I have. _In a grim manner, I lowered my voice to a murmur. "…I don't want to face death."

A sympathetic expression formed on his face, "…There is one way."

"…R-really?" My mouth hung open in surprise. Will I really get to live…?

"Though, it requires… an _extremely _special operation." the doctor cautiously stated, "I do not recommend this as it is very risky. Most patients who went through this procedure lost their life. The operation will replace some of your parts with-"

"I'll do it," I interrupted him, looking him straight in the eye, "and I **will **survive."

* * *

"Are you ready, Utatane-san?" his voice snapped me out of my thoughts from the previous day.

_Are you prepared to tell a lie?_

"Yes," I stammered, gritting my teeth, "I am."

Luckily, he didn't see through my lie. "Then please follow me to the operation room."

Deep down inside, I was scared. Who wouldn't be? Only having a 25% chance to live can do that to you.

I sighed. Even I'm able to tell a lie when I'm close to death...

_Lying is my specialty, but will I be able to make it the truth?_

Entering a foreign room, bright lights blinded me as if the paparazzi were taking multiple pictures of a popular celebrity. Surgeons stared blankly at me with dull eyes, metal tools equipped. My body tensed in the uncomfortable atmosphere and I let out a shaky breath.

_I don't want to die._

I hesitantly took a step forward, preparing myself for the worse.

_I want to live._

* * *

My eyes fluttered open, taking in the new surroundings. Comfy white bed, big windows, and plastic tubes everywhere…

Well, I'm definitely not in the operation room anymore.

My mind felt a bit cloudy. What happened? I don't remember being put to sleep during the surgery. Maybe I passed out from the pain? I can't remember any pain either…

How many drugs did they make me take?

Ignoring my thoughts, I attempted to sit up, but I suddenly stopped myself.

Something was wrong.

Oh, so very wrong.

It felt like I've gained some weight since the surgery. Maybe the operation required me to become fat…?

Sigh. I guess that's okay since I'm still living.

At the very least, the added weight wasn't unbearable. I had little difficulty sitting up, only using my arms for support just in case I actually needed them.

With the best of my abilities, I steadily got out of the hospital bed, pushing the blanket aside. Wobbling slightly, I took my first step as if I was a baby learning how to walk.

_Clank._

The sound made my head turn. Was anyone there with me? Last time I checked, no one other than me was here. Or wasn't supposed to be, anyway.

"…Anyone there?" I called, my voice sounding a bit rusty, "Hello?"

…

No response.

I couldn't help, but feel stupid for my actions.

Another sigh escaped my lips. How many times have I sighed today?

I was about to go back to bed until a certain something caught my eye; A mirror.

I strolled over to the large piece of glass, making sure not to trip over anything.

_Clank._

What is that? A tray falling or something?

_Clank._

Metal utensils then?

_Clank._

Maybe a toy robot? No, that doesn't make any sense…

_Clank._

It's probably something metal. What is it then?

_Clank._

…This is kind of getting annoying.

_Clank._

Seeing my appearance, I stood there, frozen in the moment.

Oh god, what the hell happened to me?

* * *

**Please wait for the next installment! Please tell me anything that should be fixed! ^^**

**Thanks for reading!**


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